The perks of being a Holmes
by Lossie
Summary: Honestly, for all his clever mind and nonpareil intelligence, Sherlock Holmes was a stone idiot sometimes. Crakish Sherlolly


**The perks of being a Holmes**

**A/N: **Here comes the first part of my newest fanfiction. It's mostly Sherlolly with hints of John/Mary and Mycroft/OFC (I really enjoy making Mycroft suffer and she's evil in the human form, I'm telling you!), so be prepared for a healthy dose of crazy. I hope you'll like it and let me know if I should go on with the idea. :)  
Enjoy!**  
**

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**Part 1: The matter of convenience**

Molly Hooper had been a fairly normal woman until one day Sherlock Holmes had burst into her life with all the grace and elegance of an elephant in the porcelain store. He basically blew up all the walls she had placed carefully around her heart and somehow managed to worm his way in without even trying, which was horribly disturbing. Of course, being all mousy and shy, she was unable to attract his attention in a way she so desperately wanted. It wasn't until his faked death and then his grand come back, when he finally caught that she is, in fact, a girl and he is a boy.

Honestly, for all his clever mind and nonpareil intelligence, Sherlock Holmes was a stone idiot sometimes.

After much begging (on Sherlock's part), some teasing (from John and Greg) and the internal shock and then denial (on her part), and a lot more misadventures on the way, they started dating. Of course it wasn't a walk in the park, nothing concerning Sherlock apparently was meant to be easy, but surprisingly it wasn't because of his charming personality, not quite. Shortly after he asked her out for the first time, Molly discovered that although Sherlock had had lots of sexual experience before (no real surprise there, have you ever seen the man?), he was a complete relationship virgin.

The number of times he had messed something up was uncountable. John was doing a truly splendid job at preserving all his friend's mishaps for the future by writing about it on his blog and Molly couldn't blame the guy. After all the broken relationships Sherlock's deductions and nonexistent tact had cost the poor man, this was a well deserved revenge.

Molly sighed for the nth time and unlocked the door to her flat.

She was being sentimental again, but who could really blame her? She was damn furious and ridiculously happy all at the same time, because yes, Sherlock had just asked her to marry him, but he also did it in his typical I-don't-really-give-a-flying-fuck-but-why-not sort of way. She had slapped him in the face as an answer, before storming out of Baker Street with a huff and an honest-to-god promise to herself that she is not going to say yes until he learns some manners.

Who in their right mind proposes with "We should marry. It's quite convenient."?! The bus stop near the house can be bloody convenient!

The mere memory made her grit her teeth in annoyance and she fought the sudden urge to break something, preferably Sherlock's face. Of course the cherry on tip was that he did it in front of Mrs Hudson, John, Mary, Greg and his bloody brother!

She slammed the door shut with such a force that Toby, who came out of her bedroom to greet her, meowed with indignation and run away to the living room as fast as he could.

"Great, just bloody fantastic," she murmured as she removed her coat and shoes, before following her cat. She wasn't even fully in the room when she spotted that something was off. Or rather some_one_.

Molly flicked the light on and saw a woman sitting in Molly's favourite chair near the window. She was currently petting Toby with the air of absolute nonchalance about her and as if she had every right to be there in the first place.

"Aa, Molly. Finally," the woman smiled warmly. "I was starting to get worried. It took you very long to come back."

"Yes, well. There was this traffic and... Wait, what?" Molly caught herself midsentence. "How did you...?"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. My manners must have gotten a bit rusty. Twins, you see. Six months of age and already a handful!" She shook her head with a light laugh. "My name is Caroline Holmes, but you can call me Carol, my dear."

Molly gaped. It wasn't often that someone other than Sherlock was able to throw her of the loop. Well, it was one of those moments. She searched through her mind for any other Holmeses she knew apart from Sherlock (who wasn't married _yet_) and Mycroft (who never stuck her as a marriage type), and was left with nothing. Carol was too young to be their mother, so maybe a cousin or...

"I didn't know Sherlock has a sister," she blurted the first thing that came to her mind.

Carol first blinked, then snorted and finally started to laugh. She has managed to calm down soon enough, but not before Molly turned fifty shades of red.

"I'm sorry, but you're the first person who took me for Tweedledum and Tweedledee's sibling. Oh God!" She wiped away a tear and then looked a tomato-red Molly in the eye. "I'm Mycroft's wife, silly!"

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh' indeed," Carol said with a bit patronizing smile on her beautiful face. "I don't know why that shocks people so much. Well, sweetie pie* is an excellent actor. Should have played the iceberg in 'Titanic', really."

It was Molly's turn to snort. She had a feeling that Carol was a force to be reckoned. The woman was calling probably the most powerful man in the county a _sweetie pie_, for God's sake!

She shook her head in amusement and relaxed. There was no need (and probably no way) to kick her self-invited guest out, so she decided to just sit down and get it over with.

"Don't get me wrong, it's really nice to meet you and I genuinely mean it, but to what I own this pleasure?"

Carol sighed.

"Well, as you probably know my brother-in-law is socially retarded."

"Understatement of the century," murmured Molly under her breath.

"That's just the way the Holmes men are born. Be happy that you haven't met Daddy yet. Oh, and remember one thing, very important for the future – when Mycey, Sherly and Daddy are in the same room, run for your life. The faster, the better. Trust me on this, you really don't want to be stuck in the middle of the wit battle between those three. It's a nightmare." She shivered before continuing. "Anyway, I know what he did, the complete moron. I swear it's like a family tradition of some sort! They're probably running a pool on who can make the biggest mess out of the proposal, so don't get offended. There are worst things to come. Brace yourself."

She gave a shell-shocked Molly a light pat on the arm, before she stood up.

"I need to go. Mummy is a darling, but those two little devils are going to drive her insane if she tries to put them to bed. Have a good night."

And with that Carol Holmes disappeared from Molly's flat as if nothing happened.  
~~~~

The next morning, when Molly had finally managed to drag herself up, she decided to take Carol's words seriously and texted Sherlock.

_I will agree, if you ask nicely. Don't screw up. You have your sister-in-law to thank for my act of mercy –Molly_

Just as she was about to pour boiling water into the teapot, her phone buzzed. She temporary abandoned the pot in favour of checking Sherlock's answer and promptly burst out laughing.

_I'm going to murder Mycroft. Dinner at 7 –SH  
_  
Still chuckling, she decided that her life was heading in the bat-shit-crazy direction with an alarming speed, but somehow she didn't mind all that much.

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*_sweetie pie_ is a term of endearment, but here it's also a pun to Mycroft's diets; I honesly can't wait for Sherlock to hear it~


End file.
